Moments in Time
by Unbidden-Angel
Summary: A collection of stories that don't fit anywhere else. These will include: one-shots, drabbles, etc. Possible pairings, possible gender-bend, possible bad language. Soul will be at least mentioned in each. Don't like? I'm not forcing you to read it.
1. Always Closed

Always Closed

Summery: Maka ponders Soul's door and the what stands between them.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater. If I did, then Soul would be cuddling either BS, Kid, Stein, or some other acceptable male. And Spirit would be chasing Stein.

"_memory talk"_

_memory_

"quote"_  
_

* * *

_"My door's always closed."_

Maka remembers that moment, even as she stood before her partners door that night. She'd had a nightmare, and wanted to sleep with the Scythe. But Soul's door was closed. Just like always.

"Sometimes, walls are only made to see who would care enough to find a way over them." The thought struck her suddenly. Where had she heard it before? Her mind suddenly snapped to a conversation with Black Star and the others.

_"But her door's always closed." She'd muttered. They were talking about Soul, of course. She had left to track down something to drink._

_"So?" Black Star shrugged. He didn't see the big deal here. "It has a _knob_ doesn't it?"_

_Maka gave him her blackest glare. Neighboring people backed away._

_"Yes. Why?" She hissed venomously._

_He shrugged again. "Doors were made to be opened. Your always welcome in a door with a handle." Everyone had stared at him. Did he just realize what he'd just said? They shook their heads and changed subjects._

Maka pondered on it for a while. Then she finally relaxed and smiled.

The door was always closed. But that didn't matter. Because it had a knob. And she could turn it.

She twisted the knob and the door slid open. She walked inside.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this short little...thing. It haunted me for days. Please don't hate me for writing this instead of DLLaL or SP. AS always, please inform me of any problems, questions, or **helpful critique.** Flamers shall be deleted without the slightest glance. You have been warned.


	2. Dents

**Dents**

_Summery:_ Kid upsets his partner and they grow closer because of it.

_Warnings: _Slight cursing, different languages, gender bend, hints of pairing, slight AU, OCD, small flashback, Kid being intentionally slightly OOC

_Disclaimer:_ I don not own Soul Eater. I DO however own this fic.

KidxFem!Soul

* * *

Kid was walking slowly down the halls, fixing things as he went. He stopped at one certain frame and pondered the way it looked. He finally stepped forward to begin fixing it. He nearly pulled it from the wall when the sudden image of Maka wielding Soul entered his mind. He remembered the way she swung the Scythe and how they looked together.

A sudden thought entered his mind and he sighed, pausing with the picture hanging two cm out of line. He was fully conscience of Soul's confused stare. His partner was worried about him. He could feel the waves of it from where he stood, a few feet away from her. He sighed and continued to work on the large picture.

"It's alright if you want to leave you know."

He didn't see the shocked look on Soul's face. Nor the hurt undertones in her eyes.

"I am a bit much to handle, after all." He also didn't notice Soul's head lowering to shadow her eyes. She was becoming angry.

"So it's perfectly understandable if you did want to leave." He didn't hear her footsteps as she glided up behind him. Her eyes glowed red under the shadow of her bangs. She might not be able to keep from hitting him if he continued. He ignored the large wave of killer intent that was focused on him.

"It wouldn't really bother me much-"

**SLAP**

Her hand landed right beside his head on the side of the painting, denting it. Kid jumped and froze.

"Shut the Hell up."

"What? Soul-" Kid's eyes grew wide as his mind finally caught up to real life.

"I said to **SHUT THE HELL UP!**" Her head whipped back, tossing her hair around them and making Kid jump. He hadn't noticed that he'd dug himself so far into the hole. A distant part of him sighed in relief that she hadn't resorted to her native language yet. But another part pointed out that it may only be because she wanted to make sure that he understood everything she said.

"Who the Hell do you think you are? Huh? Telling me what the Hell to do. Huh? Don't you dare open your mouth to say another word. If you do, I'll kill you on the spot. Now you listen, and you listen good, you stupid Shinigami, Death-lord bastard. I'm staying. And nothing you, or anyone else can say, will make me leave. Got that? I do whatever the Hell I want. Got it?"

Now Kid was angry. Who did she think she was? First ordering him around, then threatening him, then insulting him. How dare she!

Kid opened his mouth to speak, hands still clutching the sides of the painting. He didn't bother to turn around. She shook her head rapidly and angrily. Kid could feel her silvery-white hair whipping against the back of his head and neck.

"Ho detto che indossato parla!**(1)**" She nearly shrieked. Kid shut his mouth quickly; he knew what she could do when she was like this. It was best to not anger her further.

"You think your worthless! You think I can't handle you Obsessive Compulsive tendencies? You think I'm weak? Is that an insult? Damn it. I hate you sometimes. Stupid bastard. Is that what you think about yourself? Well I have one thing to say about that."

Kid felt her other arm come up to wrap around his waist. He prepared himself to fight; he wouldn't like it, but he might have to hurt her in order to get out of this alive. He tensed when her head came closer to nearly lean on his shoulder; he felt her chilled breath brush the back of his shoulder blade and cursed himself for forgetting that she controlled ice. He jerked and gasped in surprise when she continued.

"You're not." Her voice had dropped into a soft whisper. "You're strong, and amazing, and kind, and the farthest thing from worthless. Sure your obsession is a bit annoying and hard to handle at times, but its you. And that's who I chose. I didn't choose the son of Lord Death. I didn't choose the boy who was rich or powerful or supernatural. I had the choice of all those things and more. But I chose you."

Kid closed his eyes and let her voice wash over him. It was soothing but saddening. He leaned back a little in her hold, releasing one side of the picture to intertwine their fingers on his stomach.

"I chose the boy with golden eyes and white-striped black hair. I chose the boy who was strong and smart and funny and kind and caring and..and...and so amazing. I chose the boy in the rain on the library steps. I chose you, Death." He suddenly recalled the first time they had met.

**-FS (flashback start)  
**

He'd been running home through the rain after staying later than he'd intended with his father. He was running by the library when something caught his eye. He stopped and tilted his head up to get a better look. It was a girl with long white hair sitting in front of the library on the steps. She had her legs on a step below her with her arms resting on her knees and her face from her nose down hidden behind her arms. She was staring blankly ahead, seemingly ignoring the rain and world around her. Kid could easily see her double-irised red eyes even in the pouring rain and from the short distance away.

He shuddered at the site of those blank, flat red eyes. She blinked and a drop of rain trailed the side of nose before curving down her cheek. Kid lowered his arms from his head- they'd not done any good anyway- and began to walk up the stairs. He plopped down beside her; she didn't even glance at him.

_"What are you doing here in the rain?"_ He raised his voice just enough to be heard over the pouring rain. She didn't change.

_"Are you waiting for someone?" _Still nothing. He sighed and tried again. _"Are you alone?"_ He blinked and didn't know whether to smirk at his success, or frown in confusion when she flinched. To most people, it probably would have look like a twitch. But Kid had good eyes, his symmetry OCD had trained his eyes to spot everything.

He racked his brain to try to think of something to say.

_"You want to come to my place?"_ He jerked back with a shocked look and nearly smacked himself. Now he sounded like a pervert or something. Her eyes slid to the side to stare at him, expression unchanging. He nearly started sweating in nervousness. _"I-I meant to get out of the rain! You could get sick! Plus, its cold out! That's all! Really! Honest!"_

Her eyes turned forwards again. She gave a small nod and stood so suddenly that Kid nearly fell backwards. She looked down at him with only her eyes. He suddenly felt inferior and had to hold himself back from crawling.

He stood as well, studying her. Her long black dress swirled around her calves, and he eyed the calf-high military boots with interest. They looked heavy and dangerous but plain. He studied how the leather appeared slightly worn, and noticed that they were in almost perfect condition. The next thing that he noticed was the white on her dress.

It covered almost all of her front, stopping a few inches from the bottom. The white was also on the front of her sleeves, finally ending an inch from the edges. The ends of the sleeves had delicate white lace and a thin white ribbon in between the lace and white of her sleeve; the tiny bow-tie was a nice touch. It took him a moment to realize that it was a Lolita-style dress. He raised a brow before nodding and walking down the steps.

He continued home and only turned at his door, checking behind him to make sure she hadn't gotten lost, only to stare into her empty red eyes. He felt a jolt go down his spine; he hadn't even noticed her.

He quickly invited her in.

_"What's your name?" _He asked while they walked to his kitchen. They left their wet shoes by the door. He realized his mistake when he didn't hear her answer. He gave a small cough in embarrassment. _"Sorry. I'm Kid. Death the Kid."_

_"Sono l'Anima._**(2)**_" _Her voice was soft and quite, but strong and steady. He could tell she was used to commanding. Then his mind processes what she'd said and he drew a blank. He hadn't studied many languages yet. So far he only spoke a few. English, French, Spanish, and he'd started Japanese. He titled his head to the side.

_"...What?"_

She gave the ghost of an amused smile, but her eyes didn't change. Kid fought the urge to make a cross **(3)** and back away hissing.

_"I am Soul." _She translated. He blinked and smiled. That accent was kinda cute. He wondered what country she was from. She must have read his mind because she chuckled and added, _"Sono italiano._**(4)**_"_ Kid nodded. She raised a brow and walked over to him and pulled the hot chocolate can from his hands. She set about making two cups while he sat back and watched.

That had started their friendship and, eventually, she had become his Weapon. She still switched into other languages every now and then, but usually only when she was toying with someone or felt strong emotions. Or when he did something to anger her; although she usually switched back to Italian for that. She'd taught him other languages, but not Italian. Not yet.

**-FE (flashback end)  
**

Kid smirked when he remembered that he'd worn civilian clothes that day. He still had them actually. With a twist of his ankle, he was facing her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Her eyes were dry but held a deep and longing sadness to them that even a broken-heart couldn't hope to reach. He was once more reminded of just how old she really was. They fell back and slid down the wall, collapsing on the floor. They stayed there for hours before Kid finally sat up and pulled Soul to his room. They lay together, just enjoying the presence of their partner before slipping quietly into slumber.

The painting never did get fixed. And that was how Kid preferred it.

* * *

**(1)**- "I said to **SHUT THE HELL UP!**" Or as the translator said "I said that put on it speaks!"

**(2)-** "I am Soul." or in translator speak "They are the soul. "

**(3)-** You know, when you hold up your fingers in a cross.

**(4)- **"I am Italian."

Sorry if any translations are wrong, I used an internet translator.

Please inform me of any mistakes, yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm sure you all know the drill. Hope you enjoyed! And, once again, this didn't turn out how I'd imagined it. But I hope its still good.


	3. Guilty for not

Guilty for not

Summery: Fem!Soul contemplates why she feels no guilt for her victims. A woman helps her get just a little bit closer. Love, heartbreak, and forgiveness become mixed in.

Pairing: Hints to KidxFem!Soul and White Star x Fem!Soul x Mifune

Warnings: Gender-bend. OC. Hints to torture, child abuse, child!assassins, human experiments on children and pre-teens, hints of slash, hints of youthful sex

Connected somewhat to 'Dents'.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater. Wish I did though.

"Talking"

emphasis

* * *

"Why? Why can't I feel guilty? Why do I not have blood on my hands? I killed you. Even tortured you. But still, I feel no guilt. Why?" A young girl, looking about thirteen, stood before a mass of graves. Her eyes were focused on the three before her, but her senses took in all of them. Her long white hair fell almost to her waist. Her pale hands stayed by her sides, not even lifting to wipe away her bangs. Her red eyes were confused, helpless, but steady and strong.

"Because they have forgiven you." A woman's voice answered.

She starts, looking over her shoulder to study the curious looking woman.

Her red hair- coupled with thin black streaks, naturally, Soul noticed absently- fell between her breasts and shoulders. It was partially held back by a long, black silk cloth that was tied behind her head. She wore a purple dress with black patterns and three-fourth sleeves. She had two gold bangles on her right wrist. Her shoes had no heels and were black. Her eyes were a green so dark, they were almost black. **(Think gypsy)**

"What? Why would they forgive me? I killed them." Her voice was sharp, but had a hint of hysteria at the edges.

"Because you have suffered. They have seen the pain in your eyes, and wish you no more."

"What? Pain? But I haven't suffered. I've been treated like anyone else..." She trailed off, voice uncertain. She had been treated the same as anyone else. ...Hadn't she?

The woman chuckles. "What do you know of emotions?"

Soul looks up, surprised at the change in topic. She thought for a second. She turned back to the graves before her as she answered. "Very little."

The woman nodded, red hair keeping its place. "And of love?"

Soul thought some more, face scrunching up slightly as she reviewed everything in her head. "Even less." She finally answered.

The woman nodded again. "You see? You have suffered. They saw these things. And your past," here, Soul stiffened, just slightly, eyes becoming guarded. "and they have forgiven you. This is why you have no guilt, and no blood."

"But what of the others? They have killed as I have. Yet, unlike me, some have gone insane from the guilt, while others are still suffering. They have found ways to repay those they've killed. But I don't need to. I feel no guilt for my victims." An image of a younger Mifune flashed in her mind. His way had been through children. But he had less guilt. He'd only been there for a maximum of twenty years. They hadn't even started with him.

Not like with Soul. With her, they had been finished. She'd been there for over three-hundred years. The spell the Lab- as the Experiments called it- had placed on its property forced time to slow to an almost non-existent level. A moment there was like a year and some months outside. But Soul was double-cursed. The Evans family were also slow-timers. They aged a lot slower than the average person. It sometimes took-as with her brother- five-hundred years to reach the age of twenty.

"But they have known emotions, have they not? They have known love." The woman continued, voice penetrating Soul's thoughts. It was true. Most of the others- all children or pre-teens- had been loved by someone and allowed to be innocent. But not Soul. Not the youngest Evans. She had been hated and feared all her life just for being the Second Child.

Everyone knew the Second Child was cursed. And some family members killed their Second Children. The First were treated like Kings. The Second like trash. And the rest were treated normally. Her own mother had tricked her into eating souls. By promising Soul her love, she had tricked her youngest into becoming a Kishin. But she hadn't expected Soul to have such great control over her Madness. She had yelled, hit, spat at, and cursed Soul for not doing as she had expected. She had wanted Soul to become a Kishin so that Lord Death or a Death Scythe would come to kill her.

That day, Soul stopped believing in Fairy Tales and promises. She hated humans with a passion. She hated people. But most of all, she hated love. So she closed herself off completely. Wes had become alarmed at the sudden change in his little sister. She was cold, cruel and silent. She gave clipped responses that could put an Arctic blizzard to shame, with less emotion that a broken rock. And she only spoke when asked. But eventually, he cut himself off from her. And she became colder and more depressed. She became obsessed with the piano. She played it constantly, and even went so far as to break her own bones if she misplayed over three parts to a song. Even her parents became worried, but did nothing.

At the height of her 'fever'- as many called it- the Lab had decided that she was worthless and could go no further with her. She snapped. Almost everyone died. Lab workers, Experiments, and the families of the workers. Only a handful of Experiments got out alive, most of the survivors had been out on missions. She eventually passed out on top of Mifune, one of her only friends. White Star came to check on her later. Three days later, he gave in to the taint running in his veins along with his Clan. Mifune killed him while Soul and Sid killed the rest. She was alone afterwords. She spent what time that wasn't with her family watching over Black Star, the last to receive a dosage of the 'shot'. She owed it to her friends.

Now that she thought about it, she had never been a child. An Evans, an assassin of the highest order, Sexta in the order of reaching Cero- the most powerful weapon, which the Lab worked to create-, and even temporary lover to Mifune and White Star while in their youth. But never a child. She'd never been innocent. She'd never known emotions or love. So did this mean that she had suffered?

She wasn't foolish enough as to believe that every parent made their child a Kishin, or beat them, or even sold them to a Lab. But she'd never noticed just how much she'd missed out on. Had the other children -the ones she used to, and still occasionally did, watched from behind the fence at the park- really received such love and kindness?

She cocked her head to the side, all 629 points of IQ going to work, trying to solve a puzzle that had little to no pieces. She then tried to figure out emotions. All she could recognize were: sadness, depression, anger, hatred, and blood lust. Would guilt count? She was only guilty because she didn't feel guilty for her victims or their loved ones.

Then she thought of love. What was it? She didn't know.

She tried to think of what love meant to her.

A warm hug in the middle of another memory-nightmare in the middle of the night.

A cup of hot chocolate after sitting in the rain.

A hearty laugh that made her warm inside where she'd previously only known ice.

A hand intertwined in hers.

A smile directed at her. Only her.

A black-haired boy with three white stripes.

Golden eyes peering at her curiously as she studied him.

The number eight.

She blushed at the realization. He was her Meister. Not her lover. He had so many more choices. Why choose the blood-soaked, three-eyed girl who couldn't even understand what emotions where? He could have anyone he wanted.

Her friend, Maka, came into her mind's eye. She loved books, she was smart, kind, and protective, especially over her Weapons.

The Thompson sisters. They were both kind, fun-loving, protective, smart girls. Neither may have shown it, but everyone knows that you have to be pretty smart to live safely on the streets, like they had.

Tsubaki. She was like the others. She was smart, kind, funny, patient- but you'd have to be with her partner-, loyal, and protective as well. They all knew emotions and love.

They were better than her. So there was no reason for Kid to choose her. Besides, it wouldn't work out. Just look at Maka's parents. They were partners, who later married and divorced. No. It would never work. She knew all this.

But then, why did her chest ache? Why did it feel as if someone was pushing their hand through her chest, and pulling her insides out?

She heard a chuckle beside her. "Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps, you do know about love, after all." Soul gave her a quizzical look,hoping she would elaborate. She didn't understand. She knew love? How?

"That look. That is the look of heartbreak. You must know of love, to know of heartbreak." Soul was confused. But she just nodded, hand tightening its grip in her own shirt, right where her heart was. They stood together, neither moving nor speaking.

Both were contemplating love, forgiveness, and a broken heart. Somehow, when Soul left late that night, bidding goodbye to the graves and the woman, she felt as if she was just a little bit closer to forgiving herself. And she felt...she felt nice.

She looked to the sky and smiled; how could this day get any better?

She blinked away the raindrops as they fell near her eyes. Funny. She'd always loved a rainstorm.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed. Feel free to... well, you know the drill. Can you guess who the Meister/Weapon pairs are here?


End file.
